Ain’t But a Few of Us: Black jazz writers tell their story pt2

John Murph has channeled his voracious appetite for modern music — particular that which falls into the creative contemporary category. In his case that includes an encyclopedic sensibility when it comes to modern jazz, the leading edge of hip hop, trip hop, drum ‘n bass, electronica, house, broken beat and assorted other flavors, often in collaborations of the same. He’s coupled those interests with a writing skilll that makes great sense, and become one of the more astute observers of his 30-something generation. You can find Murph primarily on the web at The Root, Liberal Muse and in hard copy in TheWashington Post, DownBeat,JazzTimes, and Jazzwise magazines.

It has been a personal pleasure to observe Murph’s growth as a writer. When Suzan Jenkins, then of the Rhythm & Blues Foundation, sent a young Mississippi State University grad over to the old National Jazz Service Organization office for a chat, during which he certified his deep interest in writing about jazz, Murph soon joined the NJSO staff. At that time our staff also included associate director Sara Picillo (now Sara Donnelly) the architect of the Mid Atlantic Arts Foundation’s brilliant new Jazz.NEXT funding initiative (www.midatlanticarts.org), and WPFW’s inimitable show host Myrrh Cauthen (some of you may remember her from years of running IAJE conference concert venues). From NJSO Murph went on to develop the web site content of National Public Radio, then BET. All the while he was growing his jazz and modern music writing craft and a prodigious record collection and appetite for the music. In addition to being a keen commentator on the scene Murph is also a programmer on WPFW in DC, host of Wednesday Late Night Jazz, where he is just as likely to spin some newly minted Brits, Germans or Norwegians who use jazz as a launching pad towards new expressions as he is Stacy Dillard, Sean Jones, Jose James or some other young stalwarts. John Murph is the second contributor to our Ain’t But a Few of Us series of observations from black jazz writers on the state of their art & craft.

What motivated you to write about serious music?

I started writing about music in college at Mississippi State University for the school newspaper The Reflector. Growing up, I came up with a lot of my family members either listening to music and/or reading about it — whether it was newspapers, comic books, trash novels, etc. During my second year in college I was still an accounting major, but it was music and writing that I truly loved and that eventually captured my true spirit. Still, while in college I didn’t see music journalism as a viable career because there weren’t many models there. And writers for say, The Rolling Stone, Spin!, and Musician seemed galaxies away. Luckily, I got a paid internship at the Smithsonian, working with the Duke Ellington Collection in the American History’s archives center. I did two consecutive summer internships there, which opened the doors wider for me to pursue music journalism.

When you started on this quest were you aware of the dearth of African Americans writing about this music?

Seriously, at the beginning I didn’t. When I arrived in Washington, DC, first interning at the Smithsonian then working in arts administration at the National Jazz Service Organization and the Rhythm & Blues Foundation, I had African-American mentors such as Willard Jenkins, Anthony Brown, and Reuben Jackson. I also befriended other African-American writers such as Eugene Holley Jr., Wayne Self, Bill Brower, and [the ancestor] Tom Terrell. And I was reading a lot of stuff by Greg Tate, Stanley Crouch, and Nelson George. Perhaps the first thing I noticed when I started writing nationally about serious music was the age gap. I always felt like a kid in the groups of jazz journalists. It wasn’t until I started writing for The Washington City Paper, The Washington Blade, JazzTimes, and DownBeat, and attending events such as the International Association of Jazz Educators conferences that I began realizing that I was indeed a "fly boy in the buttermilk." It really hit me when I worked at National Public Radio.

Why do you suppose that’s still such a glaring disparity — where you have a significant number of black musicians making serious music but so few black media commentators?

Wow, that’s such a loaded question with so many answers and perspectives that could very well serve as a collegiate sociology course. When it comes to African-American music and culture, it always seemed as if our community was much better at creating than documenting, especially after the civil rights era. For some reason, anything vaguely related to the past seems too passe for many African Americans to pay attention to on a regular basis. So when it comes to serious music with a long legacy (e.g. jazz, blues and increasingly R&B), a lot of that gets ingnored for what’s currently popular (e.g. hip hop) and that attitude filters in the black media. You can’t ignore the lack of coverage of serious music in black media — Ebony, Jet, O, Essence — all of which have the potential of not only giving black music journalists more writing opportunities, but also of cultivating a more erudite audience for serious music.

For anyone breaking into music journalism, the task can prove daunting — especially when it becomes more about "who you know" than "what you know." For writers of color that can prove even more challenging if white editors and publishers see little value of having a multicultural writing staff beyond tokenism.

Do you think that disparity contributes to how the music is covered, including why some musicians may be elevated over others and whether that has anything to do with the lack of cultural diversity among the music writer fraternity?

Indeed I do. Take for instance the coverage of jazz singers nowadays. If you looked at retail outlets such as Amazon.com, Borders and Starbucks, the epitome of a jazz singer now is a white female. How the media (print, film, radio, internet) covers jazz and more importantly, who they will cover feeds into that perception. And this is nothing against Diana Krall, Jane Monheit, Madeleine Peyroux, and Norah Jones, but it seems incredibly difficult for both emerging and established black American singers to make the same rapid inroads in terms of getting coverage not only from mainstream glossy magazines but also in the main jazz publications such as JazzTimes and DownBeat. I find it incredible that Carla Cook is often cited as one of the best and natural jazz singers of our generation, and she’s yet to land a major feature story in JazzTimes and DownBeat. (That she hasn’t released a new disc in years is clearly noted.)

When Jose James released his splendid debut, The Dreamer last year, it was somewhat sad that I had to make special note of his race and the fact that it’s been a while since a young African-American male singer had emerged in comparison to say, Jamie Cullum and Peter Cincotti. And in my opinion, despite critical albeit underground acclaim, he’s yet to receive the same, timely amount of ink as his white counterparts.

You can also argue the same in regards to some instrumentalists. When the Bad Plus and again, Jamie Cullum. first hit they graced the covers of JazzTimes and DownBeat. Robert Glasper, Stefon Harris, JD Allen — not so much. A decade ago, heavy-hitters such as pianist Rodney Kendrick and guitarist Jean–Paul Bourelly hardly got any ink beyond the "CD review" in comparison to say, Brad Mehldau and Bill Frisell. I remember a rumor circulating that Rodney’s personality was "too urban" or something of the like to get a major feature story.

John Murph asks: Why not Rodney Kendrick in the prints?

Then there’s the whole idea of what is deemed more artistically valid when it comes to jazz artists incorporating contemporary pop music. I notice a certain disdain when some black jazz artists channel R&B, funk, and hip-hop, while their white contemporaries get kudos for giving makeovers to the likes of Radiohead,Nick Drake, and Bjork.

Do you ever get the sense that the way and tone of how serious music is covered has anything to do with who’s covering it?

Yes and no. I think there’s a tendency by writers of all creed of trying to make "serious music" appear "smarter" than it needs to be. Brad McKee, one of my best editors of all time from The Washington City Paper told me this: "Jazz is already smart. You don’t need to make it sound any smarter. Just be smart." It took me a while to really get to that. But the main takeaway I gathered from that is that oftentimes we forget to put the human element and a bona fide narrative arc when writing feature stories on "serious musicians", especially if their music is deemed "avant-garde." When I was writing about Andrew Hill, one of the cliches I always tried to avoid was "He talks the same way he plays the piano", equating a speech impediment with his distinctive approach to improvisation. Indeed, the ploy is great when trying to portray a distinctive musician as more "artistically exotic" than he/she needs to be, but it can also marginalize the artist as well.

I think it’s always beneficial for journalists who write a lot for niche magazines, such as JazzTimes and DownBeat,to challenge him/herself with writing for a mainstream, less-informed audience without sacrificing what makes the musician great, but also portraying that artist as a well-rounded person.

You’ve not only written about jazz but also quite extensively on hip hop, drum n’ bass, house, electronica, and other modern music. Where do you see intersections between these forms?

I see the intersections happening in terms of "points of reference" from musicians’ and music listeners standpoint. From checking out electronica (house, broken, drum-n-bass) and hip hop, I noticed a number of jazz artists (e.g. Marc Cary, Robert Mitchell, Taurus Mateen, Kurt Rosenwinkel, Roy Ayers,Roy Hargrove, Robert Glasper, Derrick Hodge…) playing on those cuts. Some would argue that they were doing it for the money (which is a valid point). But oftentimes, these musicians saw something of artistic value [that attracted them] to play those non-jazz genres.

Also, many people listen to a variety of musics. I grew up in the ’70s with a healthy diet of R&B and funk, but I also heard country, blues and jazz. So hearing Willie Nelson, Z.Z. Hill, and Return to Forever was hardly any different from me hearing Bill Withers, Parliament Funkadelic, and Millie Jackson. It was only until I was in colege that I realized that Santana was considered rock, then later Latin-rock. Since Santana was on Columbia, as were Earth, Wind & Fire and Weather Report, and their music all had a distinctive Afro-Latin tinge ever so often, I associated them together, thinking that they were all black music — for better or worse.

Then you can link the improvisational nature — particularly when it comes to rhythm — between jazz and hip-hop, drum-n-bass, and broken beat as well as them all being rooted in the African musical Diaspora.

Which musicians do you hear most successfully addressing those intersections in their music?

From a hip-hop perspective, I would look at how the late J Dilla had a profound influence on artists such as Robert Glasper, Stacy Dillard, Jaleel Shaw, Nicholas Payton, Roy Hargrove, Jeremy Pelt… But he’s not the only influential hip-hop artist on jazz. There’s the WuTang Clan (check out Steve Lehman’s new disc), Q-Tip, the Roots, A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul, Dr. Dre, Madlib, Pete Rock, Jazzy Jeff, Mos Def — these hip-hop legends and many more — have had a significant influence on many post-Motown bop artists. And we can talk for eons on how many jazz samples filtered through hip-hop during this golden period.

West London’s broken beat scene (I.G. Culture, Mark de-Clive Lowe, Kaidi Tatham, 4hero, etc.) is also of note, especially when you hear how its sonic imprint is rooted in electric jazz-funk (Roy Ayers, HerbieHancock, Patrice Rushen, Chick Corea, Fela, Tom Browne, Donald Byrd, Sun Ra, the Mizell Brothers, Charles Stepney, Eddie Henderson) and how they influence the music of some of today’s renegades such as Leo Tardin, Soweto Kinch, and Robert Mitchell. From a house music perspective you can look at the works of Jazzanova, Masters at Work, Carl Craig, King Britt, Moodymann… and immediately hear the jazz influences.

If you were pressed to list several musicians who may be somewhat bubbling under the surface or just about to break through as far as wider spread public consciousness, who might they be and why?

Again, I have to mention Jose James because not only is he a remarkable jazz singer, he’s a jazz singer of the hip-hop generation. He’s not gunning after the same sepia-toned aesthetic as many of his other contemporaries. And he’s built a lot of cult following from outside the jazz world by singing on albums by Jazzanova and Nicola Conte, and having noteworthy remixes of several songs from his disc. Yet James still managed to make a head-turning appearance on Chico Hamilton’s latest disc.

Lately I’ve been impressed by saxophonist Stacy Dillard and trumpeter Ambrose Akinmusire. I’m always checking out the Black British jazz scene too, particularly saxophonists Denys Baptiste, pianist RobertMitchell, and singer Eska. I love how they’re willing to incorporate their Caribbean, African, and European heritage into their takes on modern jazz.

Given your radio programming activities and your writing you obviously have your finger on the pulse of a lot of what’s being released. As we close in on the second half of 2009 what for you have been the most intriguing records released so far this year?

Right now, I’ve been spending a lot of time listening to Stacy Dillard’s new disc, One [Smalls Records]. I’ve also discovered a new modern classical composer, Joseph C. Phillips, Jr. who incorporates a lot of jazz on his new disc, Vissapana [LABEL?]. Phillips happens to be African-American (yeah, another long discussion). Steve Lehman’s new disc Travaukm Transformation, and Flow is on heavy rotation as is Kneebody’s intriguing makeover of Charles Ives’ music.

Since you just recently returned from covering the Cape Town Jazz Festival, what observations do you have on the music scene in South Africa?

It’s obvious that there’s a deep, valid tradition of jazz in South Africa. But it also seems as if many South African artists feel as if they need to play smooth jazz to get heard or recorded. I think South Africa’s jazz scene needs a figure like Wynton Marsalis and Courtney Pine to both educate its audience on its jazz history and jazz history worldwide and to inspire its South African musicians to dig deeper than the commercial whims of the mainstream.

12 Responses to Ain’t But a Few of Us: Black jazz writers tell their story pt2

I wholly endorse everything John says, especially his point about mainstream black press not giving the space to jazz that it could. The Voice newspaper in the UK – who I freelanced for – took more or less the same standpoint and yes, it is really holding us back when it could be moving us forward. But Murph is an excellent writer with a very insightful view of the music, and most importantly, its history, so if anyone is gonna keep representing right and exact it’s him.

I am reading with interest the ongoing series Ain’t But a Few of Us: Black jazz writers tell their story but must confess that after the Spellman and Murph interviews, I do not think you are any closer to answering the question of what accounts for the dearth of black jazz critics. But I would posit an even more fundamental question, especially after reading the Murph interview: Is it really consequential that there are relatively so few blacks in the field, particularly when they offer nothing beyond the amateurism of white jazz enthusiasts that sadly passes for jazz criticism in this country? I submit that the sort of fare about jazz that appears in The Washington Post, DownBeat, JazzTimes, and Jazzwise cannot be mistaken for serious criticism, which is distinguished by its intellectual rigor and incisive analysis.

Thanks for reading the interview. I’m not sure what publications that you are reading that offer more incisive analysis of the music other than JazzWise, Down Beat, JazzTimes and Down Beat. I’m quite they’re out there. But please enlighten us.

As for “intellectual rigor,” please define what that means to you. As a journalist, my job is to tell a story. In the mainstream please, that task is to write a story, hopefully with a captivating narrative that would enlighten both the jazz expert and novice on any given topic or musician.

If you’re defining “intellectual rigor” as writing a lot about music theory and throwing around a lot of music terminology then you’re correct; I don’t do it too often. The reason why is that I often compare jazz to sausage. Many people love eating sausage, but most people aren’t interested in the “ins and outs” of how it’s actually made. In fact, it might even turn them off.

Regarding the dearth of black jazz critics. One can do an entire thesis paper on that subject. And even better, the dearth of black music critics and/or black journalists working in the mainstream media. That’s why organizations such as the National Black Journalists Association is so vital.

I wasn’t asked for solutions. I answered the questions based upon my observation and experiences. But if you indeed have that more analysis and solutions regarding the dearth of black journalists, please share them. We all could use your help.

Hi Don’t you think the best way of reducing boundaries is not to segregate music by colour at all. As in the wise words words of Jay-thttp://www.roc4life.com/profiles/blogs/jayz-tweets-a-message-from-hov there is no black music and no white music see more at above link.
Lee

One chief problem with your idea of “not to segregating music by colour at all” is that, the majority of the time, it is typically white people who bring idea up. It’s a convenient escape from current insensitivity that still remain from longstanding past injustices. It undermines the aspect of some things pertaining to race which cannot be ignored. It’s idealistic, but not very practical.

People who would benefit the most from such would be the ones who stand to gain the most from it. White people. Such would cause things such as a failure to distinguish a black musician doing black music, as opposed to, say, when you get a case like an Iggy Azalea, doing all she can to pretend to be a black American woman with all of the benefit of being a white Aussie woman–even crossing over to lanes of disrespect to do so.

I suspect Jay-Z is merely saying this, because much of his global audience is white now, he works with white artists, and it looks good to say these sort of things. You’re talking about a man who sang “Niggas in Paris”…while actually in Paris, enjoying French kids chanting along the lyrics. He’s a businessman, not a voice of cultural conscience. He’s certainly not a sufficient arbiter of music here.

I do get that there’s a sense about music that can be universal, and every black person I know will give Bobby Caldwell his due as the guy we all thought was black. But still, there IS black music and white music, in the sense that it is chiefly because we are black and you are white that black American music was born.

Our total histories resulted gospel, jazz, soul, dance, hip-hop and everything else accountable in the black American experience, commonly admired and often appropriated by white America and Europe. It’s always been the history of black American culture to undergo appropriation and cultural gentrification, and it still happens today.

White American people (and Brits from afar) have never had any kind of struggle which they afflicted on black society, which has brought about so many forms of music the way such is the identity of black Americans and revolutionized music. But it gets taken, where white society reaps the highest benefit from black culture–not black people. It’s amazing that the Beatles first got more global herald doing Little Richard’s style of music (poorly), more than Little Richard himself.

Let’s face it: Color is a primary reason much of human culture exists–music being no exception. The first difference about our cultures is how we look. How we act towards other based on it, however, is a matter of personal character. But regardless, “color” has played a major continual impact on the world of how culture gets shaped, how it gets admired, and sadly, how it gets disrespected.

When white explorers visited feudal-era Japan, it changed Japanese culture, losing an integral part of their own traditions in favor for more Eurocentric ideas, eventually resulting to where traditional Japanese artisans are a dying breed today. When Dutch settlers took over South Africa, they imposed brutal racial segregation for black generations, and when they left power, it took away its only sense of developed structure known to generations, leaving the broken state it sees today.

When white Americans noticed the jazz music of the black South and adopted it, Paul Whiteman suddenly became “King.” When white Brits encountered black blues musicians and black musicians doing rock ‘n’ roll, the Beatles became “geniuses” and Eric Clapton got called “God.” Bo Diddley changed popular music forever, and yet, he’s barely remembered by pop-centric youth today the way Elvis is.

Color (exterior difference) is just as much a part–if not the chiefest part–of any culture–and plays a dominant role as to what results, how it gets introduced to the world, and how others perceive the culture as different from their own. There’s necessarily nothing wrong with noticing color in itself–we humans just often handle it wrong.

It’s impossible to just forget about color, when it comes to music born from it. Esp. when insensitivity to the issues that someone of a differing color (in this case, black Americans) still persist, still so pervasively. There can be no reducing boundaries–we’re born with them, and we cannot deny them.

I do wish we could live in a world where color didn’t matter, and where folks can just get along. At the same time, if such were truly the case, jazz (and most black music in general) wouldn’t even exist, given that so much of it was born uniquely from experiences that black musicians endured as black Americans.

Not to say no white musician can ever do a respectable job with black music–just saying that people would be best to not forget he’s doing black music, so much to the point that people want to erase the black identity from it. Sadly, that happens far too much. Barbershop, gospel, ragtime, boogie-woogie, jazz, blues, rock ‘n’ roll, reggae, soul, R&B, funk, electro, Detroit techno music, Chicago house music, hip-hop–it’s all been popularized and variously appropriated the world over.

Of course, black American music isn’t the only heritage to suffer such issue (a similar case could be made for others, such as Indian ragas, which white hippies found so intriguing and gave birth to psychedelic music), but black music’s definitely the biggest target. What else has transformed popular music worldwide more than black American music?

And yet, look who often get top billing as the “greatest”: The Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Clapton, Elvis, Buddy Rich, Led Zeppelin, Queen, Pink Floyd, The Beach Boys, Radiohead, Bob Dylan, Madonna, Frank Sinatra, Johnny Cash, and kids today might would include Taylor Swift, Justin Timberlake, Katy Perry, Adele. Sure, there was Michael Jackson, but he enjoys lonely company at the top as among music’s highest-selling and most regarded. This has always been true for black musicians, is true today, and will likely always be true.

The best thing isn’t to forget about color and pretend like we’re all the same–it’s to acknowledge those differences and to respect those good differences that make us inextricably who we are. We shouldn’t ignore the fact that there is black music and white music–we should respect the histories and unique factors behind black music like jazz and white music like classical music, and see more people of any color who respect those perspectives.

I understand why people want to make the differentiation but I’m just not sure it helps and brings people together, there are types of music but I just don’t think music should be defined by colour, no matter where it originates from. Even the mobo has dropped jazz as a category – it’s too confusing and contentious to label music by colour it also creates boundaries. I don’t know why there isn’t a fair respresentation of black journalists but just as women don’t have equality yet I think things can change a positive inclusive attitude and language seems the way to go though.

“The reason why is that I often compare jazz to sausage. Many people love eating sausage, but most people aren’t interested in the “ins and outs” of how it’s actually made. In fact, it might even turn them off.”

could it be that you are a musical ignoramus ? most journos don’t know a Bb from a flat tyre, that’s why you are not a real critic.

Do some ear training, take a basic music course it might help you write more than cliches or sausage crap